


water and bridges

by timequakes



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-10
Updated: 2013-03-10
Packaged: 2017-12-04 20:35:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/714825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timequakes/pseuds/timequakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>abby decides to take the next step in her relationship with sarah, and it makes hope reflect on how their relationship panned out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	water and bridges

**Author's Note:**

> Technically the canon ships in this are Abby/Sarah and Hope/Jerramy, but since it centers around Hope and Abby's past relationship...yeah. Some of this touches on the 2007 fiasco- if you don't know what that is, just google 'Abby Wambach Hope Solo 2007' and you'll learn pretty quickly. Basically, Abby said some dickish things, and later she wrote Hope a (love) letter and they patched things up. That's the only part of this that's based in reality. The rest is me being my crazy self.

"This is a terrible idea."

Abby sighs, shifting her weight from foot to foot, the subtle weight in her pocket growing with each second. 

"Will you just give me a yes or a no? Jesus." 

She's nervous, and Hope can tell, and there's something stupid and endearing about a person who doesn't get nervous in front of a live audience of thousands but gets nervous about a proposal that has only one answer. It's not like Sarah will say no; they've been together for years now and Hope's never seen two people more smitten with each other. She uses Abby's nervousness to ignore her own, because it's irrational and she doesn't do well with things he can't reason herself out of. That's where the sarcasm comes in. 

"Let me get this straight. You want me to pretend to be your girlfriend so you can pretend to propose to me?"

Abby's expression is comical, her brows drawn together and her eyes half-hidden by the fringe of her hair where it pokes out from her beanie. She needs a haircut, Hope thinks, pursing her lips. 

Abby thinks that talking to Hope is like playing chess; there's no direct way to do it. She knows that Hope doesn't _actually_ need her to explain everything again, but she's not sure what her answer _is_ supposed to be. A riddle, probably. Or an answer to one. Instead she states an obvious fact:

"You're not Sarah."

And fuck if that isn't her problem exactly. Hope draws a deep breath in through her nose and holds it for a moment, letting it out in increments and fixing Abby with a withering look. 

"Are we doing this or not, Wambach?"

"Wait, so you'll do it?" Another glare and Abby shuffles a step back, rolling her shoulders like a boxer entering the ring. 

"The first time I told you I loved you, you thought I was joking."

-

"I definitely want to get married one day," Heather says, sticking her legs out onto the empty seat next to her, "what about you guys?" Across the aisle Abby thinks too seriously about it and nods. "I mean, yeah. If it's ever legal."

"Move to Canada," Hope suggests, praying for a change in conversation. There's nothing like talking about lifelong commitment with your friend-with-benefits sitting to your left. Heather looks expectantly at her and she heaves a sigh, giving in to the flow of conversation. "Not me."

Abby brings that up later, with a hand down the front of Hope's training pants and Hope's fingers digging into her shoulderblades. "Why not?" she asks, and there's no context so she has to say it again- or pant it, really- into Hope's ear. "Why not marriage?"

At first Hope, in the haze of whatever it is Abby's doing with her fingers, thinks that Abby means 'why not marriage to me', and almost shoves her away. She catches herself before she does anything stupid, though, and instead she leans up to nip at Abby's earlobe. 

It gets exactly the same reaction it always does; a breathless groan and the reinstation of Abby's one track mind. 

When they're spent and Hope has yet to convince herself to escape the tangle of Abby's arms and legs, there's another question asked against the back of her neck: "What if I loved you?"

-

"The first time I told you I loved you, you thought I was joking. I think I thought I was joking, too."

"Take off the hat," Hope says, interrupting, and Abby looks at her like she's just asked her to do a Russian dance. 

"It's practice."

"That hat is hideous and distracting and I can't take you seriously."

Abby balls the hat up and puts it in her free pocket with melodrama and exaggerated slowness, then tries again. 

"The first time I told you I loved you, you thought I was joking. I think I thought I was joking, too. But them when you laughed at it, I knew two things: it wasn't a joke, and I was ass over tits in love with you."

Hope gets caught up in the words a little until the last phrase, when she screws up her face and rapidly shakes her head. 

"Head over heels. I dunno where you got that other one, but throw it out."

"...and I was head over heels in love with you. And I still am."

-

Hope breaks it off in autumn. Everything else is ending, and the taste of summer has faded from Abby's lips to be replaced by something a little more permanent that Hope knows she has to avoid. After the fact, Abby reminds Hope of a kicked puppy- unsure of what she's done wrong, but sorry for it all the same- and that makes the space between them even more necessary. They're a little drunk, all of them, when Abby pulls her to the side and she knows instinctively that things are about to get bad. 

"Did you just stop liking me?"  


"Abby-"  


"Did I do something to...to make it bad?"  


"It was never going to be serious."

"You said that in the beginning," Abby says, like she's surprised she even remembers, "but you never told me why."

'Because nobody ever sticks around and if I leave first it doesn't hurt as badly' is what Hope strains to say, because she knows that even as a summer fling Abby deserves the truth- but it's too much too fast and the alcohol thickens her tongue and what she says instead is "it doesn't matter," even though it does. Abby tries to kiss her then, and when she reacts with violence she's really directing it at herself, but no amount of self-hatred changes the fact of her hand hitting Abby's face.

-

"We've had our ups and downs."

Hope can't imagine Abby and Sarah having downs. Sarah is a smile incarnate, always patient where Hope never could be; always endeared when Hope wants to break Abby's neck. She clears her throat. 

"You sure you want to bring that up?"

Abby sighs. 

"I'm sure."

-

There's anger in Abby's eyes when Hope closes the door, so much of it that Hope's entire body boils with it secondhand. 

"I didn't do anything wrong," she says, at the same moment that Abby says, "you owe me an apology."

"I'm not going to apologize."

Abby snorts, turning away, and Hope juts out her chin in defiance, even as the betrayal and hurt swells and presses forward at her ribs and at her chest, filling her with things she knows she shouldn't say: "Since when are you one of them?"

That makes Abby turn back to her again and make eye contact with a look on her face that's more grimace than smile. 

"One of who?"  


"One of the vets. Since when do you side with them?"

And that's what hits so hard. She doesn't realize until she says it, but it's always been her and Abby. Abby and Hope. They go together even as mismatched as they are, like two bullheaded peas in a pod neither of them will admit they share. They're leaders. They're the future. And Abby's left her just like Hope predicted when the leaves started to turn. 

Abby doesn't know what to say or what to do, because she didn't expect to feel guilty but she does to her very core. For a moment the thought occurs to her that she might have been wrong, and that's enough for the guilt to kick in full force and she wants to apologize for choosing the acceptance of a group over Hope's integrity but all she can do is lurch forward and pin Hope to the door behind her with a bruising kiss that's all teeth and noses bumping and a collective exhale of surprise.  


Abby's hand is tight on her upper arm when Hope registers what's happening and stops kissing back. With a hand flat on Abby's chest she shoves forward just enough to put a few inches between them, but Abby's still touching her and that's enough. 

They don't have to speak; Hope knows she has a choice. She can push Abby away and end this right now, or she can give in to that touch and make Abby hers again. Not permanently- just tonight. Just to maximize on the guilt she sees in Abby's face. 

She decides in a split second and uses the hand on Abby's chest for leverage, clutching at Abby's t-shirt and spinning them so that she has the advantage and Abby's back is against the door. 

Abby is still somehow surprised when Hope gets the better of her. Hope overshoots and knocks the wind out of her, so that when they kiss again she hasn't had time to breathe.

-

"We've had our ups and downs, just like anyone else, but you were always willing to give me another chance."

Abby shifts, then takes a step forward, into Hope's space. Hope looks up at her evenly and tries to ignore the way her heart jumps against her sternum. They're either acting now or they were acting then, and Hope isn't sure she can decide which one is worse. 

"We belong together."

-

"Wambach and Solo. It's a thing, you know?"

Hope reads the letter over and over, but that's the line that sticks in her head. It's more of an apology than the apology itself; it's Abby acknowledging that there can never be only one of them. They're a pair, whether they like it or not, groomed for the national team together, the leader and the keeper of a team of patriots whose time to prove themselves is rapidly approaching. It means 'I need you' and it means 'you need me' and Hope folds the letter back along Abby's creases, knowing that she'll forgive. 

-

“That’s cheesy,” Hope says, but Abby ignores her this time, and hesitates just a fraction of a second before dropping to one knee. Hope wishes she were less surprised. It’s not necessary, this part, Abby could just finish the damn speech and Hope could tell her if it were okay, but then that would be doing things halfway and Abby Wambach doesn’t know _how_ to do things halfway.

“You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I wanna make sure that stays true, so...will you marry me?”

Hope is surprised to find that her lips are dry, and it takes her a moment to wet them before she answers in a croak: “Yes.”

Abby’s face lights up, like she’s relieved, like this is the real stupid thing. “Yeah?”

Hope nods, hiding her blush in her scarf. “Yes. It’s good. You’re- you’ll be fine.”

“You think so?”

“She’s not gonna say no to you, Abby. Get up.”

-

Abby’s in a tux that fits her perfectly, bouncing on her toes even in the stupid church. They had to do it in a church, of course; Abby’s Catholic or she’s supposed to be and even if it’s not a priest doing the ceremony it’s something. Megan straightens her lapel and Abby immediately reaches up to touch it, knocking it out of place again. “Leave it alone,” Hope hisses from the front row, and Megan shoots her a thankful look when Abby obediently drops her hands back to her sides.  
The moment Sarah appears at the end of the aisle Abby’s face splits into a grin so bright it’s painful to look at. Hope deals with it, because as much as she likes Sarah- and she _does_ like Sarah- she’s here for Abby. And she’d like to convince herself this doesn’t suck as much as it does. The way Abby looks at Sarah, Hope can’t for the life of her imagine how people could argue against a marriage like this, just based on something as rudimentary as gender. Hope’s not a romantic but even she can see this is beyond that.

Abby has to wipe the smile off her face to get serious for the ceremony part, but it inches back, moment by moment. Sarah looks like a cake topper, all lace and picture-perfect everything down to each eyelash. Abby drops her ring and blushes, reaching to retrieve it; Megan makes eye contact with Hope and they both grin.  


It’s okay. It’s more than okay. The whole thing is beautiful, mostly just Abby being happy like this, because Hope knows how hard it’s been for her to come out. She’s had to do it in increments and it’s been frustrating for someone so used to doing things immediately and doing them all the way, but it’s worth it now, just like they all told her it would be. 

And Hope is glad she came.

-

Somehow they end up in the bathroom together at the same time. Hope’s about to leave when Abby walks in, and she stays because Abby smiles at her and the way she says “hey” sounds like the beginning of a conversation. Her top two buttons are unbuttoned and her suit jacket is gone and her sleeves are rolled up but she still looks great- it’s the smile, Hope thinks, and she wonders if she looked that happy at her own wedding. 

She’s never been as good at showing it as Abby is. Jerramy doesn’t mind it; he knows better, knows to coax the little things from her when they’re alone together and that’s enough for him. Abby’s the type to share it all with everyone she meets, and there’s something admirable about that now that Hope is distanced from it.  


Now, especially, is one of those times that Hope wishes words of emotion came easily to her. Instead of fighting for them she steps up and wraps her arms around Abby’s neck, hugging her tightly, and it makes the words flow easier that she doesn’t have to look into Abby’s face.

“I’m so happy for you,” she says, and then adds, “I mean it,” because she’s afraid she sounds facetious. Abby returns the hug, hands flat against Hope’s back where the dress stops (backless was a bad idea). 

“I’m happy, too.”  


“I know.”

She takes a breath, squeezes Abby’s shoulders, and pulls back, leaving her hands where they are and forcing herself to make eye contact. 

“I love you,” she says, because she does, in her way- and because she should have said it a long time ago and didn’t, and for the sake of her twenty-one year old self she figures late is better than never. Abby’s pleasantly surprised by the outward display of affection and it shows when she replies like she knows a big secret: “I love you, too.”


End file.
